I've been exploited before. I know what it means to be at a disadvantage. I know what it means to have a need for something and how aggravating it is when nobody listens. I'm learning how to listen myself. If I can show others that I'm listening, maybe I can convince another person to give it a try, too.
Despite the difficulty, I'm learning to listen to women. I think everyone should have the chance to face that difficulty too - and gain from it.
I've decided to export fine art handcrafted by women in Poland to America. High quality handcrafted art produced by high quality women deserves to be shared. The more I can sell stateside to people who know the difference, the more I can buy from those whose worthy hands to continue the fight for openness and equality, a fight that I've taken to the world wide web.
Your support ensures that films for women will make a difference.
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Panthers Attack Bielsko by Night
A Short History of a Little Girl, Part 1
With a large group of women assembled at the Vagina Cafe, its proprietor begins to tell her autobiographical history of a little girl and her awakening to her true nature, inspired in part by a fairy tale written by Sergei Kozlov entitled, How the Hedgehog Changed His Fur.
Author's Note: I have been enjoined from sharing the details of my true romance adventure until such time that the other party is prepared to present her perspective on the affair arrangement...
Lots of people go on road trips. Not everybody criss-crosses Europe in 46 days. Especially not with a complete stranger.
As an artist, from the beginning of my adult career, my work had been devoted to the problem of body acceptance, a goal that I would later learn was shared by a whole community of people called naturists, a humble portion of which I discovered residing in Poland, a country whose cultural conservatism does not lend itself readily to forward thinking. One of those forward-thinking Polish naturists happened to be Margo.
I was from America, land of the free...home of the brave. She carried the weight of Old Europe...domestic and religious poverties...stifled creativity. Anger. Sadness. Yearning.
There were times during our trip when I thought there might not be a happy ending. There were times when disaster was close and I wondered whether I hadn't made a mistake. I wondered whether fear, anger or sadness might triumph and one of us would have to finished the journey alone. Though I dangled from the cliffs of Normady I was saved. Though the lights went out I rode on. Though I ran the tires down to the wire I was okay. We drove home in one piece. We came home happy. We had started the process of learning how to listen and the sound of it was beautiful. We could be sure that we were ready to conquer the devils that abuse us no matter how long it would take.
6,000 miles across Europe with a complete stranger
During our trip across Europe, Margo very bravely opened up to me and to the camera. It was a difficult thing to do considering the scars that she carries. I wanted to share with the world her often joyful, often sad, often angry but always liberating experience except that the Internet is full of pictures of naked women and men and full of trolls who abuse them.
I realized that what I really need to point out is not the openness that Margo and I cultivated between ourselves, but the darkness that continues to surround us. When I censor nudity, I do so in a way that does not compromise the integrity of the human body. In censoring the photographs that Margo and I took during our trip, I was quick to notice that in those pictures where Margo was at her most open, at her most unguarded and most relaxed, in a word, when she was herself and basking in the sun I was forced to blacken her completely.
Why does our society drive people into darkness? Why can we not accept ourselves as we are? Why can we not accept our bodies? Have we truly become eunuchs? Or are we capable of defying the sickness that pits us against each other? Together we could conquer the devils that abuse us.
Whether you enjoy being nude or not, whether you've been photographed nude or not, but especially if, for you, like for Margo, it's something you never thought you would do, consider submitting your own photograph to be published in a censored manner as a form of protest against the ubiquitous presence of the human body on the internet, naked or not, that is published and duplicated ad infinitum without context and without regard for the identity or the needs of the individual being depicted.
Michal's Dictionary: Best Fiction
I fondly remember the Scholastic Book Club catalogs I got in elementary school when I was a kid. I was always looking forward to getting them. It was fun to read all the descriptions and figure out what types of literature interested me the most, although it was particularly upsetting if a world literature anthology I liked was too expensive to even think about buying. I had to make informed decisions. Otherwise it meant a trip to the library and the hope that somebody else wouldn't have checked out any of my books-to-read.
There was one book that was always at the library but that I never had the courage to check out. It wasn't science fiction. It was a book about sex. I was afraid to hold it. Opening it made my heart race. I was afraid to be seen standing in the aisle. I had to switch aisles. I was a long way from the children's section but this was the one place in my world where I could see what a naked girl my age looked like. In the photograph she was standing in a line of girls and women, each progressively taller, older, rounder, fuller. If I had been able to at the time, I would've given this book a nobel prize just for this photograph. I wanted to know what girls were hiding and this was the one book that had the courage to show me the truth. Just having the chance to see the truth was satisfying, not to mention the fact that I was fascinated by the changes represented in those bodies. That I had to hide myself in a corner of a public library in Lincoln, Nebraska in order to see this truth opened up many questions for me.
The last time I was in a library I saw a grown man sitting in front of a computer unashamedly clicking through pictures of large breasts in bikinis on Facebook. If this man were able to do it, I'm sure he would give Facebook a nobel prize for providing this type of literature. He and I are products of a culture that fetishizes the human body. All primitive cultures fetishize something. They give it a specific charge, either positive or negative. It's the "why" that drives a community. Cowboys drive a herd of cattle by negatively fetishizing the land on either side. Men are driven the same way. For us to build a truly free society, one marked not just by sophisticated technology but also by a sophisticated culture, we will have to destroy the fetishes that drive us.
It doesn't matter what types of literature you like. Whether you like reading science-fiction or sampling world literature of an adult nature, just keep in mind that your choice is a little nobel prize of its own. Your choice dictates what kind of writing takes place. If you want humanity to live like cattle, do nothing. If you want to be a cowboy like me, see the fetish for what it is. Destroy its power.
Pronunciation of Best Fiction
I have yet to publish a pronunciation for the words "best fiction."
Video of me pronouncing "best fiction."
Definition of Best Fiction
The Best Fiction is what a good writer tries to write.
References for best fiction
I have yet to find good references for Best Fiction
Samples of Fiction from Michal's Corpus
Michal's Fiction Corpus of Acceptance Literature (FiCAL) is presented under the Bare Bottom imprint. It is currently comprised of six bodies of work, each representing a different pillar of culture and incorporating a wide variety of writhing styles.
A story bible for a comic book series set in a post climate-change California narrated by eight characters who live through a natural disaster that sinks Los Angeles and triggers a war with an expansionist Mexican government covertly supported by China.
Frame #6026
harley brought me a cane. she says she went through echo park house by house all yesterday and this morning looking for the best one.
An experimental science fiction Christology that makes Jesus the hard boiled narrator of his own early years on a bizarro earth made dark by volcanic ash and informally ruled by a man from Mars who sells bottled air.
As prosaic as Jesus's suggestions were, Zoe had to admit: they were the simplest and the best - foolproof. As for her own, they were conjugally inspired. Zoe's plan for keeping the Krupnik occupied was to write her would-be wedding vows in Polish and to have her would-be father-in-law proofread them. "That'll keep him occupied for hours!"
On the other hand, the village was fun. We would jump in the river, dodging cow cakes, pretending they were mines. Your father was the best. He never landed on a single cow cake. It was great fun. Sometimes the river was clogged with cow cakes. How could they eat so much? I thought. And how do they get in the dog-garn river? There were cow cakes everywhere - and your father never hit them. He always landed right between. He was the dog-garn best cow cake jumper in the village. Our cousin, Damian, was the worst. He was always covered in cow cake. "Hey Damian: you smell like crap!" we always said. When he was getting ready to jump, we said: "Uh-oh, watch out!" Then, boom! The mines were gone. It was great fun. We called him Sapper, the demolitions expert! Breaker of cow cakes! Man of incredible aim! And he was the skinniest one of us all!
Generations upon generations afterward, man's children came forth from darkness by defying their fear of flame. Who first approached that smoldering trunk that the boom-flash had broken? Was it man? or woman? a child? How many times did it have to happen? Were the flames big or were they small? What drove that first man or woman or child? Was it heat? curiousity? fascination with the flame? or, perhaps, rebellion? insubordination? Was he an outcast? Was she a rebel? Was the child just stupid? Only in the afterlife shall we discover when and where and who and how many, how often, what circumstances allowed man to discover that fire was good, that fire was man's best friend. What cannot be denied is that fire became sacred. Only later - much later - did we take it for granted. In those days, it had to be passed down from one caretaker to the next.
Anyway, throughout the whole thing, Jesus kept your mother's best interests at heart. Her health - physical, mental, and spiritual - was Jesus's top priority, even when it jeopardized the mission. That's how much he cared.
"Oh, we know what to call it," said Jesus. "We just can't decide what we like best: alcohol or pussy." Jesus laughed. Your mother, at first, expressed mild offense by crooking her jaw, puckering her chin, and making herself look ugly. Then, she smiled.
A literature book narrated by a pair of siblings on either side of the Atlantic whose profoundly weird sexual experiences pose a serious challenge to their traditional understanding of mathematicians, marriage, gay young men and God.
As fascinating as all these distinctions are, they do not in themselves catapult a certain wine into five or four-star strata. The dynamics of pricing wine are subject to far less dignified factors; the discriminating taste may find satisfaction at the lowest of denominations. I don't mean to imply simply that there is no disputing taste - 'de gustibus' and 'one man's meat' - all fine, well established. I'll quietly respect any man's preference if he insist. But I do mean to point out that certain criteria will, in fact, set things apart.
– Title 1, Regarding Peaches and Bananas, Part 1, Section 1, Introduction, Paragraph 1, Clauses 20-24
It made me wonder what kind of people were giving Luke his reputation these days. They can't be that much different from the ones we knew: no self-respecting woman would ever shag in that apartment - but I guess that goes for men too. In fact, what self-respecting person would ever choose to have anything to do with Luke in the first place? He can't possibly be raping them - the walls are too thin - unless he uses drugs - ah, but let us not speak of that.
I feared Macy, but I had not gone to Luke's room simply to avoid him. Sheltered in that warmth of steam, its gray dampness - cool drops of water gathering on the tip of my nose - warm gusts caressing my body, making me shiver with excitement - I did not admit to myself that I had come there to pleasure myself, to pamper myself, to prepare meticulously, to stare with giddy anticipation, and then, to unleash recklessly my physical beauty; all for the sake of Macy, so that I might join the party and stun him.
Today has been a very long day for me: I had to wake at six in the morning to make the early train to the city. Nike's party was at seven o'clock in the evening, and after stopping for lunch at the station I went down to the dormitories on Prospect Street, looking for Luke of course. He's directing a musical revue for the university, as part of a temporary position that he thinks he'll have till the end of next term (with any luck, they'll want to take him for good and he'll be silly enough to do it). I'll never understand why he agreed to live in those dormitories, surrounded by the most unattractive facilities; at least he has his own bathroom, and I meant to take advantage of it, having tried unsuccessfully to sleep on the train. My hair was a complete mess. And it's much longer by the way; you haven't seen it but it almost reaches my shoulders.
A collection of stories featuring a sexy Parisian ghost, a spooky Moon base full of vagina-faced aliens, a policeman with an Irish name, a truck full of watermelons, a flautist, and a man who has to see another man about a diseased horse.
"Shut up," said the Captain, digging his knuckles into his desk. "You're lucky the Governor had his own naked business to attend to."
"How was I supposed to know the boat was owned by a parole officer?"
"Go ahead," said the secretary. The man disappeared through the door. The woman turned to look through the window. Oda Plaza kept rotating below her-behind her. "Whatever," she thought. The people, fifty yards away, seemed to be walking on a giant wall. Few offices had the luxury of terrestrial gravity. Apparently, thought the woman, Justice Doc Uzumaki deserved one of the best.
On the other side of the door, Pat said, "You wanted to see me."
They passed a house with a red roof. Three minutes later, they passed another one. The driver explained they were pumping stations. People signed up to live and work in them for six months. Officially, his cousins lived in three of them. Unofficially, one lived in Shanghai; another in Beijing. The third ran a brothel in Quiemo. They each earned eighty dollars a month. They split it equally with him. He smiled. "Big money."
Shephard agreed to settle for the desert highway. As they drove down it, they could see sand stretching to infinity. The fifty-yard-deep walls of shrub on either side seemed comically insufficient. The driver wouldn't shut up about them. "Nobody think we can do it," he said. "Everybody in West say, 'You crazy.' Chinese man do it. We give proof to world of great superiority of China technology innovation. We develop over three hundred technique to build road. Three hundred. You see.
A real play. With drama in it. Talk fast. It takes two hours. Set in a guest house. In a small community. After a murder. Lots of suspicion. The characters learn to listen to each other. It's funny.
FLETCHER: (placing the towel on the table) I would rather you get the towel dirty than your clothes.
ALICE: Is that the reason?
FLETCHER: Have you thought of a better one?
ALICE: Not quite.
FLETCHER: I'm trying to ensure the efficacy of this massage.
ALICE: If you insist.
FLETCHER: Not so fast: do it slowly.
ALICE: Don't tease me. Turn around.
FLETCHER: Must I?
ALICE: You do.
– ACT I, lines 556-565
ALICE: It's difficult. I like it. Sometimes I do wish he were more sensual.
MS. JACKSON: I know the feeling.
ALICE: When we have sex, it's all about the penetration. There is no foreplay.
LESBIAN: Nothing?
ALICE: Spread 'em and weep.
MS. JACKSON: Men are such animals - present company excepted, of course.
ALICE: Did you see that performance they put on?
LESBIAN: Absolutely dreadful.
ALICE: I thought it was sexy.
LESBIAN: It reminds me of a dance I saw in Fiji.
– ACT I, lines 394-403
(GREY GOOSE enters unseen carrying a letter.) GREY GOOSE: You, a farmer? Gardening maybe - but farming? Your hands are too sensitive. They were made for handling stems and bulbs.
KOKOMO: Can I help you?
GREY GOOSE: Excuse me. I was at the post office and I found a letter for your husband marked 'urgent.'
ALICE: For Luke?
GREY GOOSE: From his team's manager.
ALICE: It must be important. I had better go find him. Thank you. Excuse me, Kokomo. I'm afraid I must leave you - though I hate to do it. This doesn't bode very well for my honeymoon. Thanks for the massage!
– ACT I, lines 846-851
GREY GOOSE: I've waited long enough, woman. I deserve an answer.
MS. JACKSON: I will not answer you.
ALICE: Why not?
GREY GOOSE: She's guilty.
MS. JACKSON: I've done nothing wrong.
GREY GOOSE: Swear to it.
ALICE: There's no reason not to tell the truth.
GREY GOOSE: Unless you're a rat.
ALICE: Remember what I told you. There are three things which everybody is owed: honesty, gratitude, and remorse. As my grandmother taught me, one must say, 'Thank you,' and 'I'm sorry,' and, by gosh, one has to mean it. If you've had cause to hurt somebody, you should tell that person you're sorry and you'll try to make sure it never happens again. Unless you know it will - in which case, you recognize that something is difficult. If it's something to which your partner is contributing, you make a resolution to cooperate on that. Eventually, things work out. If you've done nothing wrong, you thank your partner for his interest, humbly deny any involvement, and proceed to send him off on his merry way. I took marriage lessons with Luke for a year. They were quite helpful.
MS. JACKSON: Thank you.
– ACT I, lines 1101-1110
MS. JACKSON: I will go insane if I don't find out.
GREY GOOSE: It's all very simple. These two have been running a racket: a confidence game. Kokomo plays the prostitute, whose story is so ridiculous it must be true. Finding out for oneself is the challenge. If she's the best lay in the South Pacific, one should know the difference.
FLETCHER: Satisfaction guaranteed.
GREY GOOSE: Cash comes rolling in.
MS. JACKSON: I don't understand. What happens when-
FLETCHER: By the time they get to bed, they think she's a charity case.
A story book full of short fiction stories. An interesting bedtime mystery. A fairy tale. Science fiction romance. Adult life. Uninspiring gay fiction. Horror.
Steve O thought about Adam often. Usually after a break-up with a girl. He missed being able to share all the dirty secrets. For some reason Steve O had never found another friend like Adam. Their relationship had been unique.
Living with Barack wouldn't have made any difference. He wasn't attacked at home like Khalifa. He was attacked by ten men in the middle of the street. In the middle of the day. People standing all around. If I had moved in with him it could've been me in that tunnel to the station. We could both be twitching for the rest of our lives. He told me when he saw me he considers it lucky I was not there.
The Astrazeneca were confused. They started shaking their humongous heads. Some said, "This is truth?" They raised the tone at the end of the statement as if it were a question. Others said, "This is false." It sounded as if they wanted to believe it but they weren't sure. It was a disaster.
If a 45-year-old businesswoman and hard working mother of three kids is going to pose nude for a calendar, it's gonna have to be a good one. Margo didn't start a coffee shop called the Vagina Cafe to win her favors from the establishment. Even as she dishes out prizes to the 20 women who placed last in the twentienth anniversary run of her town's biggest road race, her business, unlike everyone else, doesn't get mentioned. She was an official sponsor for Christ's sake! But the announcer just couldn't swallow his patriarchy and get the words "Vagina Cafe" out of his mouth. That's not something a proper gentleman would say in front of a crowd of humble God-fearing "ladies" who cherish their modesty! And a Body Acceptance Calendar is certainly not what a humble God-fearing book-seller like a Barnes and Noble would put on their shelves! So how do I expect to sell this in the mainstream? Maybe if you download the free versions a thousand billion times it might help. Start downloading.
Your help keeps the "Best Fiction" page up and running...
If you love women and art...
Michal's exporting Polish art...is he crackers?
Michal's Sales Pitch Lot 1: Silesian Handicrafts
T-shirt fundraiser for sale
Last T-Shirt with the logo that I designed.
From a set of, I believe, twenty produced by Margo and given out to a portion of the last 20 women to finish the 20th anniversary Fiat Road Race in Bielsko-Biała, cf. the movie. This is the last one left in it's original packaging and my supporters - like the poor women of Bielsko - are going to have to fight for it. Whoever invests the most money with me, and who lets me borrow it to invest in the next lot, will not only be rewarded with some beautiful piece of art, but will get this priceless t-shirt as a reward for being my top supporter. $1000.00 or best offer. Remember to authorize me to hold the sum as credit against a future purchase and to authorize me to borrow against it.
To purchase please mail a USPS money order in an envelope clearly marked Lot #1/Item #1 to M. Slaby at house number 201 on Ridge Road in the town of West Milford, in the state of New Jersey, one of the beautiful United States of America. The postal code is 07480-3112.
Felt handbag for sale
Felt bag by Dorota.
Entirely hand-sewn. Base: polyester felt, 100% PE. Motif: South American woolen yarn, dyed, 100% wool. Hand-worked with a needle. Unique and inimitable design. Inside: cotton fabric, closes with zipper, inside pocket. Available now for $220.00. Ships free of additional charge via USPS (uninsured) unless otherwise directed.
To purchase please mail a USPS money order in an envelope clearly marked Lot #1/Item #2 to M. Slaby at house number 201 on Ridge Road in the town of West Milford, in the state of New Jersey, one of the beautiful United States of America. The postal code is 07480-3112.
Decorative collar for sale
Decorative collar by Zuzanna.
Ethnic layered cloth jewelry constructed on a cotton base and adorned with ribbons, tassels, and a yellow fringe. Fastened on the side with 11 buttons, fitted entirely with a pleasant lining. The style is an Indo-Asian-African multinational color combination. The collar is very extravagant and an extraordinary addition to any clothing, guaranteed to attract attention. Just a simple dress and a unique image is ready. Dry-cleaning recommended. Available now for $200.00. Ships free of additional charge via USPS (uninsured) unless otherwise directed.
To purchase please mail a USPS money order in an envelope clearly marked Lot #1/Item #3 to M. Slaby at house number 201 on Ridge Road in the town of West Milford, in the state of New Jersey, one of the beautiful United States of America. The postal code is 07480-3112.
Seamless handbag for sale
Handbag by Sylwia.
Handmade from felted all-natural Australian and South American wool. Entirely felted, seamless. Finished with a white lining, inside is a small pocket. Lining is sewn and stitched in by hand. Available now for $180.00. Ships free of additional charge via USPS (uninsured) unless otherwise directed.
To purchase please mail a USPS money order in an envelope clearly marked Lot #1/Item #4 to M. Slaby at house number 201 on Ridge Road in the town of West Milford, in the state of New Jersey, one of the beautiful United States of America. The postal code is 07480-3112.
Patchwork quilt for sale
Patchwork quilt by Alicja.
Bedspread made of cotton and polyester material. Inserted with polyester lining. 90 by 70 cm. Available now for $120.00. Ships free of additional charge via USPS (uninsured) unless otherwise directed.
To purchase please mail a USPS money order in an envelope clearly marked Lot #1/Item #5 to M. Slaby at house number 201 on Ridge Road in the town of West Milford, in the state of New Jersey, one of the beautiful United States of America. The postal code is 07480-3112.
Nuno-felt shawl for sale
Shawl by Sylwia.
Scarf made with the nuno felting technique (wet felting fibre into a silk gauze) using South American wool. Two-sided scarf with latticework at the ends. Wholly in the colors red, black, green in an abstract pattern. Available now for $100.00. Ships free of additional charge via USPS (uninsured) unless otherwise directed.
To purchase please mail a USPS money order in an envelope clearly marked Lot #1/Item #6 to M. Slaby at house number 201 on Ridge Road in the town of West Milford, in the state of New Jersey, one of the beautiful United States of America. The postal code is 07480-3112.
Clara the doll for sale
Clara by Alicja.
Clara loves roses and greenery, adores tormenting spiders with long legs and sleeping soundly in the afternoon. Cuddly toy made of cotton and polyester, stuffed with polyester lining. Available now for $70.00. Ships free of additional charge via USPS (uninsured) unless otherwise directed.
To purchase please mail a USPS money order in an envelope clearly marked Lot #1/Item #7 to M. Slaby at house number 201 on Ridge Road in the town of West Milford, in the state of New Jersey, one of the beautiful United States of America. The postal code is 07480-3112.
Noah the doll for sale
Noah by Alicja.
Noah doesn't know what to like and what not to like but keeps wondering and thinking about it. Cuddly toy made of cotton and polyester, stuffed with polyester lining. Available now for $70.00. Ships free of additional charge via USPS (uninsured) unless otherwise directed.
To purchase please mail a USPS money order in an envelope clearly marked Lot #1/Item #8 to M. Slaby at house number 201 on Ridge Road in the town of West Milford, in the state of New Jersey, one of the beautiful United States of America. The postal code is 07480-3112.
Black suspenders for sale
Black suspenders by Zuzanna.
Two-sided suspenders from black material with a rose motif on one side and striped cotton on the other. Connected by a leather triangle. Adjustable length. Hand washing in cold water recommended. Available now for $50.00. Ships free of additional charge via USPS (uninsured) unless otherwise directed.
To purchase please mail a USPS money order in an envelope clearly marked Lot #1/Item #9 to M. Slaby at house number 201 on Ridge Road in the town of West Milford, in the state of New Jersey, one of the beautiful United States of America. The postal code is 07480-3112.
Orange suspenders for sale
Orange suspenders by Zuzanna.
Two-sided suspenders made of denim and orange material with a Polish floral folk design. Connected by a leather triangle. Adjustable length. Hand washing in cold water recommended. Available now for $50.00. Ships free of additional charge via USPS (uninsured) unless otherwise directed.
To purchase please mail a USPS money order in an envelope clearly marked Lot #1/Item #10 to M. Slaby at house number 201 on Ridge Road in the town of West Milford, in the state of New Jersey, one of the beautiful United States of America. The postal code is 07480-3112.
Green suspenders for sale
Green suspenders by Zuzanna.
Two-sided suspenders made of denim and green material with a mountain folk design. Connected by a leather triangle. Adjustable length. Hand washing in cold water recommended. Available now for $50.00. Ships free of additional charge via USPS (uninsured) unless otherwise directed.
To purchase please mail a USPS money order in an envelope clearly marked Lot #1/Item #11 to M. Slaby at house number 201 on Ridge Road in the town of West Milford, in the state of New Jersey, one of the beautiful United States of America. The postal code is 07480-3112.
Felt earrings for sale
Felt earrings by Dorota.
Material: South American woolen yarn, dyed, 100% wool. Hand-worked with a needle. Pendant of anti-allergenic metal. Available now for $40.00. Ships free of additional charge via USPS (uninsured) unless otherwise directed.
To purchase please mail a USPS money order in an envelope clearly marked Lot #1/Item #12 to M. Slaby at house number 201 on Ridge Road in the town of West Milford, in the state of New Jersey, one of the beautiful United States of America. The postal code is 07480-3112.
Round ceramic earrings for sale
Round ceramic earrings by Dorota.
Material: Glazed ceramics, hand-molded. Available now for $40.00. Ships free of additional charge via USPS (uninsured) unless otherwise directed.
To purchase please mail a USPS money order in an envelope clearly marked Lot #1/Item #13 to M. Slaby at house number 201 on Ridge Road in the town of West Milford, in the state of New Jersey, one of the beautiful United States of America. The postal code is 07480-3112.
Oblong ceramic earrings for sale
Oblong ceramic earrings by Dorota.
Material: Glazed ceramics, hand-molded. Available now for $40.00. Ships free of additional charge via USPS (uninsured) unless otherwise directed.
To purchase please mail a USPS money order in an envelope clearly marked Lot #1/Item #14 to M. Slaby at house number 201 on Ridge Road in the town of West Milford, in the state of New Jersey, one of the beautiful United States of America. The postal code is 07480-3112.
'Coral' necklace for sale
Corals by Sylwia.
Necklace made of cotton pieces with organdy and decorated with beads, suspended on cotton strings. Can be worn as a necklace, as a brooch or as a belt tied at the side. Available now for $40.00. Ships free of additional charge via USPS (uninsured) unless otherwise directed.
To purchase please mail a USPS money order in an envelope clearly marked Lot #1/Item #15 to M. Slaby at house number 201 on Ridge Road in the town of West Milford, in the state of New Jersey, one of the beautiful United States of America. The postal code is 07480-3112.
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